Blast From The Past
by Cristofle
Summary: This started out as a challenge on how to get Ryan drunk and evolved into something more. Marissa and Ryan have a disagreement involving Theresa and Ryan ends up making it up to her in a very...unusual way.
1. Chapter 1

**Blast From The Past**

_A/N: This is essentially a challenge; I had to figure out a way to get Ryan drunk so it'd be funny (given his past, I decided his drink being spiked was the only way to go) it evolved from an idea to get Ryan drunk without Marissa being around so he'd have to show up on her doorstep- or Summer's doorstep, anyway- and sing Journey to her, and it's turned into something more, although that's definitely coming! To set it up, Ryan and Marissa are happily together sometime in the near future- and Theresa calls one morning to leave a message and blows everything to hell. The Theresa message is as clichéd and unlikely as you'd expect from your typical soap opera, lol. And yes, I plan on finishing Reading Between The Lines. I swear! But the muse controls me, not the other way around. Heh._

As far as Marissa Cooper was concerned, waking up in bed with Ryan Atwood may not be the BEST part of the new level to their relationship- that was definitely reserved for other things- but it was right up there on the list of perks. She always slept sounder with Ryan at her side and there was little she loved more than waking up to the comforting warmth of Ryan's arms around her.

She awoke in the pool house earlier than he did one lazy Saturday morning, smiling even before she opened her eyes at the soothing weight of his arm draped protectively across her waist. Her first sight when she came fully awake was her boyfriend's sleeping face and the smile got even bigger. Ryan looked like such a little boy if one just looked at his face when he was sleeping. It was rare to see him so peaceful and unguarded; she cherished these brief moments.

As usual; the moment didn't last long. Ryan had an uncanny awareness of whenever she was watching him, even when he was sleeping. Sure enough, his eyes fluttered open within a moment and his face broke into a lazy smile as he took in her face. "Mmmm, good morning," he yawned, stretching a little and rubbing her stomach with the hand that rested on it. "I gotta say, these new sleeping arrangements of ours definitely don't suck."

"I was just thinking the same thing when I woke up," Marissa grinned, leaning forward to press several kisses to his neck and the side of his face.

"Hey, what's with those kisses?" Ryan protested, pulling her closer and burying his face in her hair. "There are better places to kiss a person, you know."

Marissa giggled and deftly squirmed out of his grip. "Not with morning breath, there isn't. You want that, we're going to have to get up to brush our teeth." She almost burst out laughing at how quickly he hopped out of bed, climbing out after him.

"If only you were around every morning," Ryan teased as he pulled on his boxers. "Much more motivating than an alarm clock." He let his eyes travel leisurely over her body- he'd waited a long time for the privilege, after all- and almost groaned out loud when she reached for one of his wifebeaters to put on. "That's just not playing fair," he weakly protested. Marissa simply flashed him a flirtatious smile over her shoulder before heading into the bathroom. He was starting to think she enjoyed these small forms of torture.

It hadn't taken long for them to fall into an easy routine, Marissa mused silently as they comfortably moved around each other in the small bathroom. They spent most of their time at the pool house- even though Summer had set her aside for a mildly mortifying conversation about how her house was perfectly safe for her and Ryan, it still felt awkward- and she had various supplies kept out of totally plain sight all over the pool house at this point. It almost felt like they'd lived together for awhile. All the small things, like the way Ryan absently rubbed her side and pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck in between brushing his teeth and reaching for his shaving supplies, always warmed her inside. She returned the small affection by nuzzling the back of his neck before putting her toothbrush away and leaving him to his shaving.

She was digging through the kitchen to see if there was something easy to fix them both for breakfast when the phone rang. She glanced up in surprise; it was early to be calling. She could still hear Ryan shaving in the bathroom, so she shrugged and let the machine pick it up. There was too much potential for some awkward conversation with whoever was calling by picking it up at this hour. However, as the all too familiar voice came over the speakers, she froze.

_"Hey Ryan. It's me…it's Theresa. Listen, I just wanted to thank you for the birthday letter you sent me, that was really thoughtful of you. I didn't want to let this one go by; I could tell it kind of bugged you that I hadn't written you back or anything when we saw each other in May. I hope you're okay…I hope everything with you and Marissa turned out alright. Listen, I have to go but I'll call you back sometime, okay? Bye."_

Ryan had come out of the bathroom right as Theresa was starting to speak and his stomach dropped further and further with every word out of her mouth. It was nice of her to call him, but he could barely focus on that right now. The call would have thrown Marissa under the best circumstances; now she knew that he'd been writing Theresa and had seen her in May…and he'd never told her about any of it. It took him a minute to get up the guts to raise his eyes to her face, and he winced when he finally did and saw her stricken expression as she stood frozen in place in the kitchen. "Marissa…" he said softly, taking a few steps towards the kitchen.

Marissa felt like she was going to be sick, but she struggled to hold onto some semblance of pride. She'd never liked being one of those girlfriends who hounded the guy about every single thing they did with other girls. "You didn't want to pick it up?" she asked, plastering on a deliberately casual smile as she moved out of the kitchen, deftly sliding out of his reach as she made her way to the bed area and reached for her jeans.

Ryan closed his eyes briefly; he could spot the mood behind that friendly and yet cool tone from a mile away. She was angry, but underneath the anger she was hurt. He hated knowing something he'd done had hurt her. "It's no big deal; I can call her back later," he said warily, immediately wondering if he should have mentioned calling her back at all. Marissa gave him an absent smile over her shoulder as she sat down to put on her shoes; he could feel the quickly growing chasm between them. "I should have told you I wrote her," he said quietly, hoping his being blunt might cut through a couple of her defenses. "I'm sorry you heard it like that."

Marissa waved her hand carelessly. "Please. You're a big boy; you don't have to account all your actions to me. It would be ridiculous for me to think you need my permission to write an old friend a letter." Even as she said it, she felt like she was dying inside. Theresa brought up just about every insecurity she'd ever had about not being good enough for Ryan, along with months of harshly painful, lonely memories. Little made her feel more vulnerable than Theresa.

Ryan had never been sure if she was trying to make him feel better by being supposedly casual about things that obviously upset her, trying to protect her own pride, or if she was aware how it cut him up inside every time he felt that cold distance beneath the friendly exterior. There was little he hated more than when his spontaneous, impulsive, vibrant girlfriend turned into that coolly polite and perfectly composed socialite stranger. "I don't agree," he said out loud, swallowing the pain and annoyance. "Given my history with Theresa and my relationship with you, you had a right to know. I'm sorry."

Marissa bit her lip hard to keep her emotions from showing; the last thing she wanted to do was flip out and either start crying or screaming in front of Ryan. She didn't want to either further upset their relationship by starting a melodramatic fight or totally trash her own dignity by crying about something she logically knew she shouldn't be crying about. "Consider it forgotten," she smiled calmly, standing up and tossing on her jacket before grabbing the rest of her clothes and throwing them into the larger purse she'd grown accustomed to having around.

"Where are you going?" Ryan asked somewhat helplessly as she quickly ran a brush through her hair. "I thought we could have breakfast and spend the day at the pier or something."

Marissa shrugged. "I thought I'd at least put in a little girl time with Summer this morning, but I'll call you later, okay?"

"Marissa-" Ryan started to protest, but before he could finish she'd opened the door to find Seth on the other side of it.

"Oh!" Seth stepped back in surprise. "Good timing; I was about to warn you the parental units are on the prowl."

"Well, I better get going," Marissa said in that same falsely cheerful tone Ryan had heard her use the first time she met Theresa. "See you guys later!" And before Ryan could get in one more word, she was off. Sighing heavily, Ryan slumped down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

"Uh, dude?" Seth asked, clearly baffled. "What was with that cold shoulder? I almost got frost bite."

"That was the worst I've screwed up in a long time," Ryan said in resignation. "And that's saying something."

Seth winced in sympathy. "Well, as a man with a LOT of experience in that area, why don't you get dressed, we'll have some breakfast, and then get down to some good old fashioned Seth-Ryan time."

Ryan gave Seth a tired but grateful smile. As painful as he figured the advice would be, he could use someone on his side right now. "Thanks, man. I'll be in the kitchen in a minute." He waved at Seth as he left the pool house, then dragged himself up to get dressed. He had a feeling this was not going to be so easy to smooth over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Blast From The Past Chapter Two**

_A/N: I'm not saying how Marissa sees what happened with Theresa is how it SHOULD be seen or will be seen at the end of the day; this is her instinctive reaction. Also, I don't believe Marissa is aware of what Trey told Ryan the night of prom (for the purposes of this story, let's pretend she's not. Yet). And Summer will eventually back down, lol._

"Man. You totally blew it."

Ryan raised a brow at Seth as they sat on a bench at the pier together. "Thanks," he said sarcastically. "You make me feel much better."

"Well come on dude!" Seth protested. "You kept your correspondence and past meeting with your ex-girlfriend- who you may or may not have gotten pregnant at one point in time- a secret from your girlfriend, who had to hear it from the ex over a voicemail. Does it even get any worse than that?"

"Thanks for the recap," Ryan sighed, running a hand over his face. It sounded even worse when stated like that. He felt sick to his stomach when he imagined what was running through Marissa's mind right now.

Seth frowned curiously. "I gotta ask…why didn't you tell her? I mean, is there still something there with Theresa or…"

"No," Ryan immediately shot down. "I mean, I care about Theresa. I always will. But if that summer in Chino taught me anything, it's that I just don't feel THAT way about her anymore. Really, it was never like it is with Marissa. It's definitely not about that. It's just…" he sighed again and shook his head. "I'll never forget the look she used to get on her face every time something I did with Theresa got thrown in it." Flashes of it went through his mind even as he said it. Marissa when Eddie confronted him in school about sleeping with Theresa…Marissa when he rushed off to beat the crap out of Eddie in the bridal shower…Marissa when she told him Theresa was pregnant…Marissa when he told her he was leaving….Marissa as they danced together at her mother's wedding. Those images had never stopped haunting him. "I didn't want to hurt her, you know?" he said aloud. "And it's not that easy for me to talk about anyway. But now I have a whole new picture of her face in my mind." He closed his eyes briefly. "When she heard that message…I was just standing there looking at her and I felt like such a bastard."

Seth patted his back sympathetically. "Just explain it to her like you just did to me, man. It should at least make it better."

"I'd love to if she'd talk to me," Ryan said ruefully. "I tried to call her, but her phone is off."

"Her PHONE is off?" Seth repeated incredulously. "When was the last time Marissa actually turned her pho…." he trailed off at the dejected look on Ryan's face. "Sorry." He patted him on the back again. "Come on, I'll treat you to lunch at the diner. We'll figure out something."

* * *

"I cannot BELIEVE that jackass!"

Marissa swallowed a smile. She and Summer had been shopping for a couple hours now and Summer clearly hadn't gotten over her rage blackout about the Ryan/Theresa situation. Marissa had ended up spilling all when she got back to Summer's house and Summer caught her on the wrong side of tearful. "Sum, he's not a jackass," she halfheartedly protested, even though her friend's unquestioned loyalty cheered her up.

"Oh please. That punk has been writing letters saying God knows what to his ex for God knows how long and it turns out they had some secret meeting and you're defending him?" Summer broke off when she saw that Marissa was on the verge of tears again. "Oh sweetie, I'm sorry," she said sympathetically, shifting her bags to one hand and wrapping an arm around her friend's waist. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything like that. He loves you, I know he does. He just shouldn't have set you up for this kind of reveal."

Marissa shrugged miserably. "I would never ask that he NOT be friends with her. He's been friends with her his whole life; I would never ask him to give that up. I just don't know why he didn't tell me. He NEVER talks to me about her, not about anything that happened that summer. He gave me a really brief overview at the beginning of last school year and there's been absolutely nothing since. And seeing her in May? We were together in May; why wouldn't he tell me about that? He told her about me; she mentioned me on the message." She closed her eyes to fight back tears. "It feels like we're not any further along than we ever were. He still trusts her more than he trusts me."

"Baby…" Summer sympathetically lifted her hand to stroke Marissa's hair. "Want me to kick his ass for you?"

Marissa giggled in spite of herself. "No," she smiled a little, her tears thankfully pushed back. "I appreciate the offer, though. Come on, the diner's right over there. Let's get some lunch."

"Thank God you mentioned it, I am famished," Summer said dramatically. "Let's just have a total calorie fest. Situations like this demand choc…" she trailed off as they both entered the diner. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned.

Marissa shook her head and sighed as she spotted her boyfriend and Seth sitting in their regular booth. That was just her luck. "Did you know they were going to be here?" she warily asked Summer.

"Oh please, if it were up to me Ryan would sit around wondering where you are for days," Summer scoffed, even as Ryan glanced up towards the doorway and did a double take when he saw Marissa and Summer standing there. He quickly said something to Seth and made a beeline for the entrance, as if he thought Marissa was going to bolt. "Hey," he smiled hesitantly as he stepped in front of them.

Marissa gave him the same deliberately casual smile she had before. "Hey," she said breezily. Summer merely rolled her eyes at him and flounced off to sit next to Seth.

Ryan braced himself against the irritation he felt at her wall of polite behavior; he'd been asking for it, he reminded himself. "I tried to call you a couple times," he said, leaning in to kiss her and wincing when she moved her head so he only had an aim at her cheek. He pressed his lips to her warm, smooth skin and was satisfied when he felt a slight tremble.

"Summer and I were busy," Marissa shrugged, irrationally irritated that no matter what he could still make her FEEL like no one else did. Just the slightest touch set her off.

"Well, I'm glad to see you," Ryan tried to smile again. "I was hoping someone would show up and save me from riding my bike back home."

"Sure," Marissa said distantly, inwardly dying at the thought of keeping this up for a whole car ride with him.

Ryan sighed. Okay. That did it. "Come on, let's talk outside," he said, gently taking her by the elbow and leading her out the door.

"Ryan, I was there for lunch with Summer," Marissa protested weakly, dreading what she knew was coming.

"She can wait a few minutes; she obviously knows what's up anyway from the way she was glaring at me," Ryan said bluntly, leading her to the railing of the pier. "Okay," he sighed, leaning against it. "We've had enough of this. You're obviously pissed off about that phone message from Theresa. Would you just say it? I don't know if you're trying to save face or don't think you have a right to be mad or what, but there's no point to it. I'm standing here telling you I'd be mad if I were in your shoes."

Marissa clenched her jaw. Okay, if he wanted to play it that way. "Fine, I'm pissed off," she snapped back. "I don't understand why you didn't tell me. When have I ever given you the impression I'd flip out about other girls if you just told me about it? Or is that an area of your life I'm just not deemed worthy to know about?"

"What?" Ryan said blankly, stunned. "Marissa, come on. It's not like that. I just didn't want to make you feel…"

"When did you see Theresa?" Marissa impulsively interrupted.

Ryan blinked, caught off guard. "What?...last May, she said it on the message."

"No, I mean when exactly did you see her?" Marissa pressed. "What was going on that specific night? Why did you talk about me?"

_Oh, shit._ Of all the questions she could have asked, that had to be the worst one in terms of how much she was going to want to kill him. "What- what does it matter?" he fumbled. "It was just a day last May."

"If it doesn't matter, why aren't you telling me?" Marissa challenged him, realizing if he was evading the answer it was probably as bad as she thought.

Ryan closed his eyes and sighed deeply. There was no way he could see around this. "It was the night of prom," he responded wearily.

Marissa frowned for a moment as she ran the events of that night over in her head….then understanding dawned. "Ohhhh," she said softly, bitterly. "You saw her before you came to prom."

Ryan met her eyes evenly. "Yes."

Marissa shook her head and stared out at the ocean, tears swimming in her eyes that she didn't try to fight for a change. "All this time, I thought you came there because you realized on your own I would never do that to you, never cheat on you with your own brother," she said quietly, a note of resignation in her voice that chilled Ryan. "But it wasn't that at all. You didn't come there because you decided to, you came there because she TOLD you to. You couldn't trust me. It had to come from her."

"You're putting words in my mouth," Ryan protested in agitation. "You're putting two and two together and coming up with ten. I didn't say any of that."

"Oh really?" Marissa angrily challenged him. "Then tell me what part of that isn't true. Did you not go to her and complain about your slut of a girlfriend, only to be told by her that maybe I'm not THAT much of a whore which caused you to change your mind about standing me up for prom?"

Ryan gave her his patented look that clearly suggested had he actually said something to go along with that look he would have called her 'woman'. "I didn't call you a slut or a whore, to start. I've never even considered calling you that. And I didn't go to her, I ran into her. And I came to you that night because I wanted to. I wanted to be with you."

"Oh please," she shot back. "When you think I'm hooking up with your own brother, what else would I be but a slut? And no one ever said you didn't want me, Ryan. But when you have to be convinced by your ex girlfriend to not stand me up at prom…" she broke off, knowing if she went any further, she'd either break down or be tempted to slap him. "You know what, I'm done with this. Ride your bike home," she snapped, pushing past him. "And I'd get air in those tires; you aren't going to be getting a ride from me for a long time." She figured she'd let him take that any way he wanted to as she stormed off in the other direction.

"Oh, come on- Marissa! MARISSA!" Ryan shouted after her, but she quickly vanished into the crowd. He threw up his hands in frustration; that had gone even worse than he thought it would.

"What the hell? What did you do to her?" Summer demanded, suddenly appearing out of nowhere with Seth on her heels.

"Not now, Summer," Ryan sighed. "Maybe I deserve to have my ass kicked, but she's taking everything the wrong way and I have to…"

"You have to stay away from her is what you have to do," Summer shot back, fiercely defensive against him in a way he hadn't seen in years. "I mean it. Back off." With that, she ran off down the pier after Marissa.

"Ryan?" Seth asked warily. "What just happened?"

Ryan closed his eyes as the full impact of their fight hit him full on in the chest. "There's a chance I just lost my girlfriend."


	3. Chapter 3

**Blast From The Past Chapter Three**

_A/N: Well, here's Drunk!Ryan! Since I have a clean slate here (Ryan's never been totally smashed) I decided Ryan was going to be a very honest drunk. LOL. Belief should probably be suspended to some extent here because this WAS a challenge and it's all in fun._

"Seth, you're out of your mind if you think I'm going to some party tonight."

"Ryan!" Seth whined. He had cornered Ryan in the pool house, where he sat brooding at the same dark wall he'd been staring at from his easy chair since he got home from the pier hours ago, to demand he go to the beach party of one of Summer's various Harbor friends. "Come on, you have to go."

"With my non-existent girlfriend?" Ryan asked sarcastically, the sentence ripping at his insides even as he said it.

Seth softened. "Come on, man. You don't know that she's going to break up with you. You guys have survived a lot worse than this. It's one fight."

"I don't think it is," Ryan admitted tiredly. "It's a lot of things. That phone call opened up this whole box of feelings we'd both been keeping shut. Now it's not just about Theresa, it's about Trey and how I thought she cheated on me." Even now, he wanted to throw up saying it. Every time his mind entered even close to that territory, he thought of her alone and terrified and hurting on the beach- and the look on her face when he'd accused her of being unfaithful. "Truth is, I was shocked she didn't hold that against me to begin with," he said quietly.

"Ryan…" Seth was clearly floundering. "I think she understood you were…you know, confused and upset. She just thought you came to her all on your own prom night. That had to sting a little."

"She doesn't understand everything about that night yet," Ryan said agitatedly, leaning forward in his chair. "Not that it matters, since she won't talk to me." He slumped back again.

Seth shook his head, staying quiet for a long moment. "But that's exactly why you need to come to this party!" he suddenly burst out. Ryan temporarily considered throwing the lamp at him. "You need to get your mind off all this." Ryan shot him a Look and he relented. "Also, I have an easier time at parties if you're there to talk to when Summer's being social and to…look threatening, but that doesn't mean I'm not right!"

Ryan eyed him warily. "Yeah, I'm sure my mind will be off this just fine when Summer knocks me unconscious."

Seth pursed his lips together in a way that made it clear he couldn't entirely be sure that wasn't a possibility. "Hopefully I can calm her rage black outs," he said, his tone obviously stating he couldn't make any promises. "But dude, you're not doing anyone any good sitting here staring at the wall."

"As opposed to the party where I'll be helping YOU, I take it?" Ryan shot back wryly.

"Better than nothing!" Seth insisted. Ryan shook his head and felt a hint of a smile in spite of himself. Seth was right; he wasn't helping anyone, including himself, but just sitting here and he didn't like to go to parties without at least a couple friends, either. "I'm our excuse for leaving early," he relented.

"Dude, I have NO problem with that," Seth assured him, raising his fists in triumph. "Come on, get ready. Summer'll be here in about a half an hour."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to go?" Summer asked, hugging Marissa tightly as they sat together on the bed in the room that had temporarily become Marissa's.

Marissa shook her head wearily. "I'm not in the mood," she sighed, wincing at the sound of her own voice. How pathetic did she sound? It was obvious she'd been crying. "I'd just drag everyone down, anyway."

"I think I should stay," Summer said worriedly, rubbing her back as she pulled away slightly.

"Sum, no," Marissa protested. "You already promised Ashley you would be there and help host. I don't need a baby-sitter. I'm being melodramatic anyway." She rubbed her forehead. "I shouldn't have jumped down Ryan's throat about Trey. I should know by now to just leave that topic alone."

Summer bit her lip, clearly deliberating about something. "Coop…are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, obviously it's still a really difficult thing for you to talk about, but maybe that means that you should."

As always when Trey's name was brought up, something dark skittered across the back of Marissa's mind. He'd left such a huge, gaping, black hole inside of her. She couldn't even go near the edge of that. "We've talked about it as much as we can," she hastily shrugged off. "I just shouldn't have gone there; he already feels guilty and it's a low blow."

Summer gave her a look that made it clear she wasn't buying all that but had decided to let it go for now. "Well, I'll probably be back early knowing Cohen. We'll do a Valley fest with lots of chocolate and stuff tomorrow, okay?"

Marissa smiled gratefully. "Sounds good. Have a good time, Sum." She hugged her friend one more time and watched her leave, then flopped back on the bed. It looked like she was in for a long, boring night.

* * *

Ryan jogged up to the foyer when he heard the doorbell ring; sure enough Summer had come to pick them both up. She gave him the withering glare he'd been expecting when he came up. "Cohen, what's he doing here?" she snapped, directing the question at her boyfriend but still glaring at him.

"Summer, come on," Seth protested. "I hate going to these things without at least one more friend, you know that."

Summer glanced at Seth and softened somewhat. "Okay, fine. Let's go."

"Wait." Ryan caught her by the arm as she started to head out the door, then shoved his hands in his pocket nervously. "How's she doing?"

Summer narrowed her eyes at him. "She was crying for awhile. And she looked like she was trying not to cry when she left. And I hope that makes you feel as bad as it was supposed to."

Ryan flinched. "It does, don't worry," he muttered, staring down at his feet.

Summer sighed at his kicked puppy demeanor; no wonder Marissa almost always forgot why she was pissed off at him fairly quickly. "Look, I'm only going to say this because I think it needs to be said for her sake," she relented, and Ryan looked up curiously. "I know this fight started about something else, but it turned into this whole big thing…about Trey. And you know, what she said? About you thinking she's a slut? You might want to consider that she was projecting when she said that."

Ryan frowned in confusion for a minute, then what Summer was saying hit him like a fist in the gut. "You think she blames herself for what happened, like she led him on or something."

Summer shrugged unhappily. "Oldest story in the book, isn't it?"

Ryan rubbed a hand harshly over his face. The thought of Marissa believing that about herself tore him apart; he'd been so eager to get past what Trey did that he'd taken her for her word when she said she simply wanted to get past it. Obviously, not talking about it hadn't helped her at all. "Thanks," he said wearily to Summer. "I promise, whenever I can get her to talk to me I'll bring that up."

Summer eyed him, then simply nodded. "Okay. Let's go to this party."

An hour later, Ryan was having a thoroughly miserable time as he'd expected he would. The only thing that ever made these things halfway tolerable was Marissa, and not only was she not there, he had nothing better to do but stand around and beat himself up for not telling her about Theresa and compounding the problem by letting the situation with Trey go too easily. It really wasn't that different from home; he sat in a chair, stared at the wall, and thought about Marissa. _Yeah, this is real different, Seth_, he thought sarcastically.

"Here, dude." The guy who appeared to be in charge of drinks handed him another Coke. "Looks like you at least need to be doing something."

Ryan shook his head and wryly accepted the drink. "Thanks," he sighed, taking a sip. How pathetic was he when random people thought he was such a loser they couldn't even be nasty to him? Marissa was better than he was at these things anyway; she made him look at least semi-normal at social events.

Why was he even here? His relationship was slipping away from him over what amounted to a completely stupid fight and he was just sitting alone in a corner of some party. He should be with Marissa, making her understand. Not at a party baby-sitting Seth (who didn't even seem to need it). Suddenly surprisingly decisive, he downed the last bit of his Coke and stood up- then swayed a little as the room spun. "Whoa," he muttered, reaching blindly behind him to steady himself on the table. "What the hell?"

_Oh, son of a bitch_, a little, rapidly fading voice in the back of his head whispered. It had been a long time- years, in fact- but he recognized the signs. He was drunk. He'd been so caught up in thoughts of Marissa he'd stupidly accepted drinks at a party that a good eight times out of ten turned out be spiked. The alcohol had hit his system hard and fast, although he knew with his last scrap of sober thinking that he'd probably been getting drunk for awhile and barely noticed between his sappy, depressing thoughts.

He had one final coherent thought; that he probably shouldn't go near much of anyone tonight, least of all Marissa. The thought flickered for a second and then burned out.

* * *

"Have we been social long enough, Summer?" Seth whined, looking aimlessly around the party. "There has got to be something better to do with our time."

"TOO long," Summer muttered while keeping a smile plastered on her face. "Remind me to get Coop and help Ashley plan her next party; this one is lame."

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. Where's Ryan?" Seth inquired, scanning the room. "Last time I saw him he was brooding somewhere. Let's get him and lea-" he was abruptly cut off when a pair of heavy hands slapped down on his shoulders. He momentarily thought one of the water polo players had decided to harass him after all and almost jumped when he turned around and saw Ryan behind him. "Ryan!" he protested. "Dude, not everyone is as wiry is you are; you could knock someone over…" he trailed off as he caught a good look at Ryan and realized his friend's eyes were completely glassed over. "Ryan?" he said warily. "Buddy, you okay?"

"I have to…" Ryan started to slur, then seemed to lose his train of thought for a second. "I have to get to Marissa!" he almost shouted out, and this time Seth really did jump. "She doesn't…she doesn't get it, so I have to get it for her."

Seth decided he'd stepped into some parallel universe. "Dude. You're totally wasted," he said in shock. He'd never seen Ryan drunk before and frankly didn't think he ever would, at least in high school. "Did this really require turning to alcohol?"

"I don't think he did," Summer said, staring at Ryan like he was some science experiment. "Ken Sproull is in charge of drinks; he's famous for spiking Cokes or anything that doesn't have alcohol in it. Considers it his civic duty."

"That makes more sense; Ryan was definitely out of it enough to just take a Coke." Seth sighed.

"Ssstop talking about mee like I'm nnnot here," Ryan snapped, decisively if somewhat incoherently. "Marissa. Didn' you hear me? We gotta go."

"Ryan, dude. That is NOT a good idea," Seth said warily, already envisioning a smashed Ryan knocking on an already pissed off Marissa's door.

"If you don't take me, I'm just going to take myself," Ryan said stubbornly; some of the firmness of his statement marred when he leaned against the chair behind him and almost fell over it.

Seth fought the urge to laugh as he reached out and grabbed Ryan's jacket to steady him. Summer made no such effort; he heard her snort loud and clear behind him. "Come on, dude. We'll get you home, sober you up a bit, and then you can go find Marissa if you want."

"No." Ryan shook his head vehemently. "Cause you know what, that's my fucking problem. I wait too long for shit. Tha's why I'm in this whole…no." He shook his head again. "I'm not gonna do this any…again. I gotta see Marissa now."

"Ryan…" Seth sighed.

"Maybe we should just do it," Summer suggested. Seth turned around to glare at her and she lifted her hands helplessly. "What? You can't stop Ryan from doing something when he's in his right mind; we've got a lot of pounds- mainly muscle- I might add- of a drunken lovesick puppy right now. Marissa isn't so pissed off she won't take care of him until he's sober, and at least we'd know he's in one hopefully not too destructive place."

Seth rolled his eyes. "You want him to make an ass of himself in front of Marissa, don't you?"

Summer shrugged unrepentantly. "Does that make me wrong?"

Seth sighed deeply. "Fine, fine. Come on, Ryan. We'll take you to Marissa."

"Thank you." Ryan pushed in front of him and slung an arm around Summer's shoulder, almost swallowing her with his body weight. "Thank you, Summer. Have I ever told you I like you?"

Summer laughed in spite of herself as she slid an arm around Ryan's waist, hoping he was at least steady enough to not take them both down if she supported him a little. "Thank you, Ryan. That's sweet."

Seth arched his eyebrows as he followed them out of the party. "Maybe we should call Marissa and warn her."

"Oh, hell no," Summer said breezily. "I won't lie; I'm gonna have my camera phone ready for that facial expression."

Seth attempted not to laugh. Ryan was SO going to regret this in the morning.

* * *

Well, this was a fun night.

Marissa couldn't sleep. Come to think of it, it had been awhile since she hadn't spent at least part of the evening with Ryan and she missed him. She missed his comforting weight against her, the way he would pull her closer in his sleep. And yet that ridiculous phone message and their earlier conversation wouldn't stop playing over and over again in her head; she didn't even have a second's peace.

Marissa was startled out of her thoughts by the ringing of the doorbell. "What the hell?" she muttered, glancing at the clock. Who would be here this late? She sighed heavily and dragged herself to her feet. Summer was gone and her dad was out of town, and she doubted a tornado tearing the roof off the house would wake up Summer's stepmother. "Stupid drugged out lunatic…" she muttered as she traipsed downstairs. Still grumbling, she opened the door- to see her boyfriend on the other side. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned, holding her robe tighter together. "Coming in the dead of night isn't going to help your case, Ryan." With that, she slammed the door right back in his face and moved to go back upstairs.

"Marissa!" She turned around in surprise when he started banging on the door. What the hell did he think he was doing? "Marissa, if you don't open up the door, I'm gonna have to…"

"Have to what?" she shot back, moving again so she was standing on the other side of the door. "Break it down? Go home, Ryan. I'll talk to you later."

"I'll…I'll sing!" Ryan said in desperation. Marissa stepped back incredulously, wondering if she'd fallen asleep after all. Had he really said he was going to SING? Her question was answered when she heard the slurred version of what she knew was his favorite Journey song two seconds later. She pinched herself, determined to wake up from this bizarre dream. It hurt.

"Ryan, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, swinging the door open again. He more or less fell into the doorway and she had to catch him to keep him from falling flat on his face. "The neighbors are going to call the…" he clung to her to keep steady and it dawned on her what was going on. "Are you drunk?" she asked dumbly.

"Yeah, he is," Seth's voice called out and for the first time she looked past the stoop and saw Seth and Summer on Summer's front stairs. "He forgot the cardinal rule of Newport parties- don't accept drinks."

"Especially not from Ken Sproull," Summer said nonchalantly and suddenly Marissa saw a flash of light.

"Summer!" she protested when she realized her best friend had taken a picture. "Knock it off; you aren't helping."

Summer shrugged airily and grabbed Seth's hand. "He demanded to see you, so here he is. Enjoy! I'll be back in the morning." With that, she and Seth were off before Marissa could get another word in.

"Gee, thanks," Marissa muttered, instinctively putting a steadying arm around Ryan's waist and reaching out to shut the door and lock it with her free hand.

"Marissa," Ryan sighed, putting both arms around her and burying his face in her hair.

"Whoa!" she said, trying not to smile. As long as he hadn't gotten drunk on his own, this was harmless enough and it made her feel better in spite of herself that his instinctive drunken reaction was to seek her out. "Come on. Let's go up to my room; I doubt anything will wake Mrs. Roberts up but might not want to chance it."

"Is that woman even alive?" Ryan asked in honest confusion as she led him to the stairs.

"That's yet to be scientifically determined," Marissa said wryly, grabbing a hold of his jacket as he tripped over his own two feet on the stairs and ending up being taken down with him as he tumbled onto the stairs. "Ryan!" she laughingly protested as she landed on top of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Ryan said breathlessly, reaching up to stroke the hair off her face. "Did I hurt you?"

Marissa smiled in spite of herself; he looked so earnestly, sweetly concerned. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never seen him like this. "No, you didn't hurt me."

"Good, 'cause I think I hurt myself," Ryan groaned. Marissa burst out laughing, but was abruptly cut off when he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her mouth down to his.

For a moment, even the emotional gap between them and Ryan's drunken state couldn't distract her from the magic of his mouth. She found herself starting to put her arms around him before she snapped to it. "Down, boy," She somewhat breathlessly protested. Undeterred, Ryan simply went for her neck when she moved her lips out of reach. She almost moaned. How was he that good at this even drunk off his ass? "Ryan, come on," she halfheartedly moaned.

Ryan frowned, suddenly a pouty little boy. "You're still mad at me."

How the hell was she supposed to stay strong in the face of that? "This isn't about that, I promise," she sighed, climbing off him and pulling him up with an effort. "This is about us being on the stairs. Come on."

"I don't blame you," Ryan said mournfully as she carefully guided them up the stairs and into the room she'd claimed as hers. "I'm an asshole. I know I am."

"Ryan, this is really not the conversation to have when you're drunk," Marissa said wearily as she led him over the bed and eased him so he was sitting on it. "Let's talk about this tomorrow, okay?"

"No," Ryan said stubbornly. "It's…it's like I was telling Seth. That's my problem. I don't you about stupid, pointless shit when it happens, so then you find out anyway and you're mad at me. And then I don't tell you things, and you don't get that either. I don't tell you that I love you." He reached out to stroke her face. "I love you so much."

As soon as he uttered the words, Marissa knew she was done for. He hardly ever said them, but they made her melt inside every time. "I know that you love me," she said quietly, reaching up and taking his hand in hers.

"And Theresa…" he sighed, flopping down on the bed and grabbing her hands to pull her with him. "I just feel so fucking guilty, you know what I mean? I made her life hell because I didn't even try and then I just left, I didn't even look back. I wanted to be home, I wanted to be with you."

"Ryan…" she sighed, her heart aching when she heard the guilt and loneliness in his voice, unmarred by his usual defenses. She would have understood that if he'd told her, she wanted to say. If he'd let her see the misery in him when he talked about that summer, if he'd explained how guilty he felt because of it, she would have understood. "It's okay," she said simply aloud, knowing he wasn't in any condition to handle an actual in depth conversation instead of rambling on.

"And Trey…" he groaned. Marissa fought the instinctive urge to flinch. "I shouldn't have believed him, I shouldn't have needed Theresa to tell me he was lying…"

Marissa frowned, confused. "Lying? Ryan, what are you talking about?"

Ryan continued as if he hadn't heard her speak. "It didn't even sound like you, I told him that at the time. You would never do that. You would never hit on him."

Marissa's eyes widened as comprehension dawned. He had gone to Trey, and Trey had lied. That's why he first cancelled. That's what he must have told Theresa. "Oh, Ryan," she said softly, her heart breaking as she imagined what that must have been like for him, to be told by the older brother that for most of his life had been the closest family he had that the girl he loved had come onto him.

"I know, I should have…I shouldn't have believed him," Ryan kept repeating, either misunderstanding or simply not hearing her. Tears filled her eyes and she gently placed her finger over his lips.

"Ssssh," she said softly. "It's okay. I'm not mad anymore, I promise."

Ryan blinked up at her. "You're not? Do you still love me?"

Marissa was caught between laughter and tears at the simple, childlike question. How many times had he wondered that about how many people and had way too many defenses to voice it? "Yes, I love you," she smiled a little, stroking his face.

Ryan immediately broke into a dazzling grin and leaned in to kiss her. This time she really did laugh as she realized he was fumbling with his own shirt; he had it halfway off before she grabbed his hands. "Okay, I think it's better if we just sleep tonight," she said, trying to stifle her giggles. She'd trained him too well if this was his instinctive reaction.

"This is how I sleep," Ryan said innocently and she burst out laughing again.

"Oh really?" she said playfully. "Okay, but the shirt is as far as you're going no matter how you usually sleep." She helped him pull his shirt off and he reached for her again.

"I bet this isn't how you usually sleep either," he commented, reaching for the belt of her robe.

"Well, it is tonight," Marissa said between giggles and she playfully pushed him away. It wasn't hard; she could tell he was close to passing out as it was.

Sure enough, he only had the energy to mutter one more "Love you" and he was out. Smiling gently, she leaned in to kiss his cheek, then went to pull his boots off and carefully arranged him so he was in the center of the bed instead of on the side before climbing in next to him.

"I love you too," she whispered to his unconscious form, then snuggled against his body and settled in for sleep as well. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Blast From The Past Chapter Four**

_A/N: Now, this chapter is mainly fluff leading into a more serious next one. Marissa takes care of Hung!Over!Ryan!_

The first feeling Ryan had when he woke up the next morning was one of relief and contentedness; he could feel his girlfriend's warm body next to him.

The first thought he had was that he was about to throw up.

He lurched out of bed and bolted for the bathroom, barely sinking to his knees in front of the toilet before he got sick. He didn't even realize Marissa had gotten up and followed him until he felt a warm, soft hand gently rubbing his back and neck as he threw up what felt like most of his stomach lining. God, he hadn't felt like this in years, not since Trey had talked him into getting drunk off some cheap whiskey when he was about fourteen. After what felt like forever, his stomach emptied itself of everything it finally could and he leaned his head against the porcelain of the toilet, panting. "I am so going to kick the ass of whoever spiked that drink," he muttered hoarsely.

"That would apparently be Ken Sproull," Marissa said lightly. "Heads up; I'm flushing." Ryan lifted his head a little and winced at the loud, harsh sound of the toilet flushing, then heard her moving around and the sink running. "What are you doing?" he mumbled.

"This." He felt a blessedly cool wet cloth run over the back of his neck and closed his eyes at the relief of the feeling.

"That feels good, thanks," he sighed, braving opening his eyes to look at her. She was kneeling next to him, her eyes gentle and caring.

"You going to be okay long enough for me to go get something to settle your stomach?" she asked, softly stroking his hair.

"There isn't anything in me to throw up at the moment," Ryan said wryly, wincing at the scratchy sound of his voice. "I'll be okay."

"Okay." She leaned forehead and brushed a feather-light kiss over his forehead, then climbed to her feet. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Hey," he called weakly after her and she turned around. "Thanks."

She smiled a little and blew him a kiss before leaving the bathroom. He closed his eyes and slumped against her cabinet. He was only 70 sure he wasn't going to make it through the day now.

What had happened last night? He searched his foggy memory. He recalled their argument and going to Ashley's party, he remembered realizing his drink had been spiked, and everything was hazy after that. He had only the vaguest of recollections of showing up at Marissa's doorstep. He shifted a little and groaned at the pain in his back; why the hell was that there?

Marissa came back into the bathroom within a minute and he voiced the question to her. "Is there some reason my back hurts?" he asked faintly.

Marissa laughed a little. "That would be a result of you tripping and falling on the stairs, and turning to take me with you." She set one of the glasses and a package she was carrying on the counter, then knelt beside him again. "Rinse; it's water," she ordered quietly.

Ryan obediently took a swig of water and swished it around in his mouth, then spit it back out. "I took you with me?" he repeated. "Please tell me I didn't bang you up, too."

Marissa smiled. "You know, you were even worried about that last night? No, I'm fine. You pulled me on top of you." She dumped the glass out into the sink and reached into a cabinet for a little bottle. She shook a couple pills out in her hand. "Here, aspirin and ginger ale to help with the headache and your stomach."

Ryan gratefully took what she offered and quickly knocked back the two pills; the carbonated beverage almost instantly soothed his still rolling stomach. "You are the best," he groaned sincerely. "I think I'm up to a 50/50 chance of survival now."

Marissa chuckled softly. "I'll get you back on your feet in no time, I promise. Unfortunately, I think I have more experiences with hangovers than you do," she said ruefully, sitting next to him again and rubbing the back of his neck. He almost looked more vulnerable sick than he did drunk; nothing tugged at her heartstrings more than a vulnerable Ryan.

Ryan reached up and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Does all this mean you're not pissed off anymore, or do you just feel that sorry for me? I'll take what I can get either way, just to let you know."

Marissa smiled a little sadly. "I'm not mad anymore, not at all. And I'm sorry; I feel like I overreacted now. A lot."

"No, no," Ryan started to reassure her, then looked around. "Uh, can you give me a hand up? I'd like to have this conversation anywhere other than the bathroom floor."

Marissa laughed and hopped to her feet, then put an arm around his waist to help him up. "Here, I got you some soda crackers, too," she said, reaching for the package she'd put down and putting it in his hand.

"Thanks, baby," Ryan said, kissing her hair as they slowly headed back to the bed. He collapsed on it as soon as they reached it and tugged gently at her hand. Smiling a little, she crawled in next to him and he sighed with relief at the familiar feel of her against him. "This is much better," he said huskily. "So…do I even want to know why you've forgiven me? How much of an idiot was I last night?"

"Beyond serenading me with Journey at the door?" Marissa asked airily and started giggling when he groaned. "No, really. You were sweet. It was enlightening; you're a very honest drunk."

Ryan groaned again. "Honest, huh? About what?" he asked reluctantly, unsure if he even wanted to know.

Marissa got a little more serious. "I don't think I understood about how you felt that summer in Chino until you were talking about it," she admitted, taking his hand. "I mean, I figured you were unhappy, but I just didn't understand how completely miserable you were until I heard it in your voice last night. And knowing you, you WOULD feel guilty about that, even if I don't think you have a reason to."

Ryan sighed deeply. "That's not too bad of a confession; I was going to tell you anyway. I should have explained this a long time ago. Yeah, I care about Theresa but trust me when I tell you if that summer did anything; it convinced me she and I NEVER belong in that kind of relationship. I just don't want her that way anymore. But you know…we were friends for such a long time and I felt like I threw it all away when I was so miserable all summer and when I practically ran home after the miscarriage. I just wanted to let her know I wasn't a total bastard. Maybe let myself know too."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Marissa asked in honest confusion. "I would have understood."

"Because I've seen the look on your face when Theresa shows up or gets brought up," Ryan admitted. "Even when we're not together, like that time Eddie accused me of sleeping with Theresa in Harbor, I looked over and saw this LOOK on your face before you could hide it. I just…couldn't take it. I couldn't take hurting you like that if I didn't have to." He held up a hand before she could protest. "And yeah, I know that kinda backfired and I ended up hurting you more than I would have if I'd just told you. I'll keep that in mind, I promise."

Marissa smiled a little; he looked like a scolded puppy. A miserable, sick scolded puppy. "It's not that big a deal," she assured him. "Not as much of one as I made it out to be, anyway. I don't need to keep tabs on your every move or contact with another girl; just a heads up would have been nice. Once I understood what was going on, it made sense." She bit back a grin at the almost comical look of sheer hung over misery on his face; he looked thoroughly spent by their brief little conversation. "Okay, tough guy," she lightly teased. "Enough deep talk for now; you look like you're already zoning out."

"Be nice to the wounded," he groaned and she laughed, lightly rubbing his stomach. The sound of the downstairs door opening and slamming shut startled her until she remembered Summer had spent the night at Seth's. "That must be Summer," she said, kissing his forehead and climbing out of bed. "I should go to talk to her. You going to be okay? I'll come back and check on you."

"I'll be fine," Ryan assured her, smiling faintly and kissing the back of her hand before letting it go. "I'll probably just be asleep."

"Okay," she said in the baby voice he'd always found oddly endearing. "Feel better." She blew him another kiss and walked out of the room, smiling to herself. Big bad Ryan Atwood. If people could see him now. She came face to face with Summer almost immediately, who was standing at the foot of the stairs with a satisfied smirk on her face.

"I take it all is well with lover boy again?" Summer teased her.

Marissa rolled her eyes even as she grinned at Summer. "I can't believe you just dumped him on the doorstep without warning. What if your stepmom had woken up?" she demanded as she went past Summer down the stairs.

"Please." Summer waved her hand dismissively. "An axe murderer wouldn't wake the woman up." She trailed after Marissa as Marissa wandered in to the kitchen and grabbed a box of cereal out of the cabinet. "So?" she pressed. "What happened?" She narrowed her eyes as Marissa nonchalantly shrugged. "Lest you forget, I have photos of last night."

Marissa laughed. "Fine, fine. Really, it was nothing too juicy; the funniest thing was him singing to me, which you saw, and falling on his way up the stairs. Other than that, he was just a very honest drunk and his honesty made me feel better."

"I figured it would, as much as I wanted to kick his ass yesterday," Summer admitted. "The boy loves you; there isn't any getting around that."

Marissa laughed again. "Oh, he was VERY open about that last night. Honestly, it was cute. It wouldn't have been so cute if he'd gotten drunk on his own- not that I'd have any right to blame him, but it's too sore a subject for him- but since it wasn't really his fault, it was cute." Her smile faded somewhat as she remembered the more serious parts of his drunken confessions. Some of it was too private to share with Summer, but it bothered her privately nonetheless. Sometimes it struck her just how…lonely he seemed. Even now, he had moments where it was like he was desperately lonely. It was a lot better than when she'd first met him but she sometimes wondered if they all did their part to make him not feel so alone. She didn't get the feeling she'd done a bang up job in that area last night. He had a lot of defenses up, it was true, but so did she and he'd broken through most of them.

"Hey," Summer waved a hand in front of her face. "Where did you go?"

Marissa blinked. "Oh, nowhere. Really, there isn't much else to say. Come on, let's have some breakfast." For the moment, she put aside her worries and thoughts about all of yesterday's moment to have a simple, fun morning with her best friend.

* * *

_"You would never do that…I shouldn't have believed him."_

Ryan opened his eyes.

Most of the previous night was still somewhat hazy, but he woke up remembering that moment clearly. He'd told Marissa about what Trey had said. "Dammit," he sighed, rolling over to sit up. He'd known he was going to have to tell her that after he'd admitted when he saw Theresa, but he'd wanted to be more…gentle somehow. Maybe that was ridiculous. How do you tell your girlfriend that your brother who tried to rape her later lied and said she came onto him? Still, he wished he'd at least been sober. He wished he'd been able to…be there for her somehow. He didn't think he'd done a very good job of being there for her about what Trey had done to her thus far; he'd wanted to switch that around.

Shaking his head a little to clear it- he still didn't exactly feel great, but the pounding headache and rolling nausea was gone- he stood up and went over to the chair where Marissa had draped his shirt, pulling it back on before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He couldn't change what he'd said last night, but he could at least attempt a serious discussion about it today. Grabbing a cracker from the package on the dresser, he nibbled on it tentatively. When nothing threatened to come up, he figured he was safe enough and wandered downstairs.

The sound of female giggling led him to the kitchen. He stopped dead in the doorway, caught between laughing and feeling somehow sad. Marissa and Summer were standing in the middle of the kitchen, covered in flour and giggling hysterically. Sometimes he was faintly envious of the simplicity of their friendship, of the way Summer could always make her smile, of how Marissa always trusted Summer enough to tell her just about anything. He was glad Marissa had such a loyal friend and he'd become very protective of and dependent on the bond all four of them shared, but every time he saw her laughing with Summer like this when he hadn't made her laugh so hard in awhile, his heart momentarily responded with a pang, before the simply joy of seeing her unrestrained smile took over and made HIM smile. "Hey," he spoke up from the doorway. "What happened to you two?"

Marissa turned and gave him the same brilliant smile she'd been aiming at Summer, washing anyway any of his silly dark thoughts. "Despite numerous warnings that all I can make is fudge and macaroni and cheese, not to mention despite the fact that we've never done anything close to the sort in our lives, Summer wanted to try and make brownies from scratch. We barely made it past the flour, so I went back to fudge. You up for a taste?' She held out a spoon to him.

"I think I'll live," he laughed a little, walking further into the kitchen and tasting the fudge. "Mmmm, good." He leaned over and gave her a kiss. "Good morning. Or close enough."

Marissa smiled and stroked his face lightly. "Good morning. You look like you're feeling better."

"I am." He rubbed her back gently and then realized Summer was staring at him obviously trying not to laugh. "What?" he said warily.

"Nothing…Journey boy," she teased, bursting into giggles at his dark glare. "Oh, don't even give me that look. You liked me last night; you told me so."

Ryan shook his head and laughed in spite of himself. He was never living this down.  
"Well, I'm going to go change," Summer said, still laughing. "I'll see if I can find where Cohen is, too. I'll see you guys later." She wandered out of the kitchen and Ryan took a seat at the counter, watching his girlfriend move around. She looked so happy and content, like such a normal girl doing normal things. He questioned how wise it would be to upset the balance. He questioned his own ability to go through this. Still, he knew problems would keep coming up if they didn't make some attempt to deal with it.

"Ryan?" Ryan started and realized Marissa was staring at him curiously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, exactly," he sighed. "It's just….Marissa, we've got to talk."


	5. Chapter 5

**Blast From The Past Chapter Five**

_A/N: This isn't AS in depth as it could be, partially because it's ground I'll cover in Reading Between The Lines and partially because I have a vague idea for another fic specifically designed to deal with the attempted rape. This just covers what needs to be covered in terms of this fic._

_"Marissa, we've got to talk."_

A vaguely unsettling feeling came to rest at the pit of Marissa's stomach. "Talk about what?" she inquired in an all-too-casual tone of voice; she winced at how fake it sounded. Studiously avoiding Ryan's eyes, she moved around the kitchen pouring the fudge into a pan.

Ryan rubbed his hand over his jaw, unsure how to start. "I remembered a little about what I told you last night. About Trey."

Marissa tensed at the sound of the name. She'd been afraid it would be something like that. "It's okay, we don't have to talk about it," she said hastily. "I never should have brought it up in the first place; it's a low blow. I didn't know you had seen him that night, that's all. I get it now."

Ryan frowned. "Marissa…" he made an attempt to catch her eyes and failed. Sighing deeply and fighting back a faint flicker of irritation, he momentarily wondered if this was worth it. Did she think this was easy for him? He didn't want to talk about this or re-live this, either. Still, Summer's voice from the previous night kept ringing in his head. If Marissa thought this was her fault, she was a long way from even being able to cope with this. He couldn't sit back and do nothing. "Marissa," he tried again. "No one's saying you did anything wrong or should have known any better. I'm not trying to slam you here; I just think we should talk about this."

"I don't understand why," Marissa protested, feeling the agitation and the sense of walls closing around her the way she always did when someone approached the topic of how Trey tried to rape her. She could talk about Trey as Ryan's brother easily enough. It was harder for her to talk about Trey as the man she shot, but she could do it if she had to. But Trey the man who tried to rape her? Every time it came up, she felt sick. Every time she thought about talking it over with Ryan, it was even worse. She knew what any details of that night would do to him on top of what talking about them did to her. "I've already said I was wrong and I understand now. What is there to go over?"

Ryan raised his brows. "A lot if you can't even look at me when I bring it up," he said bluntly.

"Will you just drop this?" Marissa erupted all of the sudden, her emotions getting the best of her. She almost felt like she couldn't breathe. "I said I didn't want to talk about this. Just leave it alone!"

Ryan recoiled at her suddenly violent reaction, too shocked to protest when she whirled and bolted out of the room. He'd had no idea she was going to respond THAT badly. Part of him wanted to throw up his hands and call it a day; he didn't want to pressure her into doing something that would further traumatize her. The other part knew something must be very, very wrong for her to react like that and if he let it go, it might only get worse. He'd long since accepted he was one of the very few- sometimes he felt like the only one- who would notice when something was wrong with Marissa and take steps to help her. He hadn't needed to do that the way he did when they first started dating in a long time. Marissa had grown up and gotten stronger. Still, no matter how strong she'd become, she obviously wasn't strong enough to get through this like she had been. Sighing deeply, he got up off the stool and hesitantly went to search for her in the house. It didn't take long. She was sitting curled up on the couch in the den that was somewhat tucked away from the rest of the house; they'd cuddled and watched TV there on the rare occasions they were at Summer's house because they generally went uninterrupted. She didn't look up as he came in, but didn't protest as he came to sit beside her, either. After a long moment of silence, she finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry I freaked out on you," she mumbled. "I know you're asking me about this because you care."

Ryan ached to reach out and touch her, but he couldn't be sure that's what she wanted or needed. Biting his lip, he chose his words carefully, "If this is too hard for you…if it's something you don't think you can talk about with me, that's okay. I understand that. But Marissa, if it's THIS hard, something's wrong and you need to talk to somebody."

Marissa rubbed her hands tiredly over her face. God, it was still morning and she was exhausted. "No," she said wearily. "If you don't understand this, it'll eat at you the way not understanding about Theresa did for me."

Ryan frowned. "Marissa, don't do this for me," he said, his voice low and intense.

Marissa shrugged listlessly. "I need to do this. So I need to have a reason." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "So that night of prom…you went to see Trey."

Ryan stared at her for a long minute, unsure of whether or not he should continue if she had this line of thinking. Unable to figure out a better option, he relented. "Yeah, I did," he confirmed. "After I asked you to prom, that girl Jess that he'd been spending time with came up to me at school. She…basically she said you and Trey hooked up, and she told me Trey was in Chino. So I went to find him at a bar…"

"And he blamed everything on me," she finished for him. Even as she said them, the words brought up feelings so deep in her she couldn't even place them. There was a horrified empathy for Ryan, unadulterated rage aimed at Trey, and shame aimed at herself. How could Trey do that to Ryan? How could he blame everything on her after what he did?

Should she take some of the responsibility?

Knowing what he knew now, the thought of that conversation was even more repulsive and incomprehensible to Ryan than it had been when he was in the middle of it. He had been absolutely crushed when Trey told him Marissa came onto him; he felt like he'd been ripped to pieces. He didn't know anything could feel worse- until he'd learned what really happened that night.

More than one furious punch had been aimed at Trey with that conversation running through his head.

"Yeah, he did," Ryan said out loud, uncertain how to put any of this. He didn't want to hurt her or traumatize her any more than she'd already been. "I didn't…" he rubbed tiredly at his forehead. "I shouldn't have believed him at first. I didn't believe him when he first said it; I didn't want to believe him-"

"I feel like I said you up for that somehow," Marissa blurted out in an emotional whisper. Ryan's head snapped up and he looked at her in surprise, but she kept painfully forging ahead. "If I hadn't…I don't know. Acted the way I did and didn't tell you why…I mean, I told you to ask Trey. Did I think he was going to be honest?" She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "I should have seen that coming."

"Marissa.." Ryan said softly, helplessly. "You couldn't have done anything any better; nobody could have expected you to. I wish you'd told someone, for your own sake. But that's not a time when I would expect you- or want you- to be focused on how everything affects me. It was Trey's fault, not yours." He saw the shadows in her eyes as he said that sentence and flinched, knowing Summer must be right. How the hell was he supposed to touch that without sending one of them or both of them over the edge? "Look.." he said hesitantly. "I can't know how you feel about this whole thing. And this is something I'm really not sure you should talk about with me. But I just want to let you know…you didn't cause this in any way. If you think you led Trey to believe something…you didn't. I was there practically the entire time you got to know Trey. Whatever went wrong…it was in his head, not because of you. It doesn't even matter, because as soon as you told him not to touch you…" he gritted his teeth against the very image of that and struggled on "…as soon as you told him that, he had no right. But at any rate, you didn't do anything to make him think you felt some other way. You just didn't."

The dam broke and Marissa started to cry. No one had ever told her that. No one had ever asked or gone near that subject, so it just stayed at the back of her mind, haunting her day and night. Had she done something without noticing it? Had she been TOO nice? Had she given Trey false hope? Could she have done anything differently to make any other outcome? Hearing for the first time someone tell her that wasn't true, and hearing it from Ryan, no less…it was overwhelming.

At first, Ryan was horrified, thinking he'd profoundly screwed that up and made it even worse for her. He was somehow even more taken aback when she suddenly leaned her head into his lap. Slowly, somewhat helplessly, he lifted his hand to her hair and stroked it as she cried. Maybe she just needed some kind of release. They stayed like that for a long minute, as she cried and he stroked her hair. Finally, she lifted her head up. "The same thing applies to you too, you know," she said shakily, wiping at her face with the back of her arm.

"What does?" he asked, gently reaching out to wipe her face more thoroughly.

She caught his hand in hers and held it, looking intently into his eyes. "This is Trey's fault. Not mine…not yours, either. I didn't see it. You weren't going to see it, either."

Ryan closed his eyes, more to regain control of his own emotions than anything. For the times he'd felt like she didn't understand him, in moments like these he thought she knew him all too well. At length, he nodded and leaned his head against hers. "Thank you," he whispered huskily.

Marissa curved her hands around his neck in that way that was uniquely hers. "Thank you," she whispered back. "Can we…I mean, I'm okay now. Well, not OKAY, but I know I need to face this. But can we just…leave it here for now?"

"Of course," Ryan readily agreed. He knew he wasn't solely capable of taking care of this situation and truth be told, he'd rather change the subject now himself. He'd said what he needed to say, they'd both had some kind of release, and they'd both reassured each other. It was enough for one day.

"So what happened with Theresa?" Marissa changed the subject, finally re-entering their normal state of ease when it came to touching each other and leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her.

Ryan shrugged. "Really, it wasn't that dramatic. I ran into her right after I called you, helped her take her groceries home, and on the way the story about Trey and you- well, what Trey had told me, anyway- came out. She…she told me to trust you. She told me you were the one out of the two of you who loved me better. And really, I KNEW that deep down. I guess I just needed a push in the right direction."

"I hate how much I like her sometimes," Marissa muttered, then blushed as she realized she'd said that out loud. "I mean…" she said hastily.

Ryan started laughing. THERE was his girlfriend. "I know what you mean," he assured her. "Truth be told, I hated that I liked Alex at one point." He kissed the side of her head and she smiled. "So…that was it. I dropped her off and came straight to prom. You know the rest."

Marissa smiled dreamily. "In the middle of that mess, I SO loved that moment," she recalled. "It was so romantic."

"You have an interesting standard of romantic," Ryan said wryly, then laughed as she elbowed him playfully.

"Shut up! You aren't going to ruin it. It was a moment." She leaned against him again, remembering that night all those months ago, where for one moment she'd forgotten her troubles and danced with the boy she loved under the stars.

Ryan lifted a hand to her hair. "So…is this a moment? I mean, we're okay now, right?"

Marissa smiled a little. "Seriously, Ryan. We were okay last night." She poked him teasingly. "Honestly, what girl could resist a Journey serenade?" She started giggling as he shot her one of his famous Looks. "You're going to look back at this and laugh," she promised through her giggles.  
Ryan rolled his eyes even as he smiled and wrestled her playfully onto his lap, pulling her into a kiss. It hadn't been such a big price to pay in the grand scheme of things. He and the girl he loved were back on an even keel. Was one drunken, embarrassing night such a huge price to pay?

_Oh yeah. I'm still going to kick that kid's ass._

**The End**


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